


A lesson in wording

by TerresDeBrume



Series: AUs without a cause [15]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self Control, Sex Magic, bottom!tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has to learn there are some things you can’t take away from Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lesson in wording

**Author's Note:**

> Almost done with the crossposts, there's only one left after this, and then only new stuff :)

And to think the meeting begun like any other one.

It’s kind of difficult for Tony to remember that now that the feeling of thick skin has moved up his ankles and to his calf, teasing and caressing him beneath the denim of his pants. It’s even more difficult to remember when the feet supposedly teasing him is, actually, resting on the table -a good ten feet away from anything even remotely resembling Tony- while it owner is casually engaged in conversation with his brother.

Coulson doesn’t even  _look_  at Loki because, apparently, the bastard is a super multitasker, and he always manages to remember what was said during meetings, no matter what –Tony suspects Loki reads Coulson’s thoughts when interrogated, but he can’t be sure.

 

Anyway, all this to say that Tony’s mind is far, far away from anything Coulson can say right now, unless he starts spilling advice for how to deal with teasing sex g—I mean, tricksters.

As for Loki, multitasking or not, his attention very obviously tuned to Tony, as evidenced by the tiniest of smirks gracing the left hand corner of his lips, and the way he just  _looks_  at him, just before doing something that will up the tension.

His foot –or the impression of it- is now rubbing against Tony’s thigh, circling ever closer to his groin without ever actually  _going_  there, and  _fuck_  Tony needs a cold shower ten minutes ago, please.

 

“Everything all right, Tony?” Steve asks from where he’s seated in front of him, and Tony curses under his breath as every gaze in the room turns toward him, and the sensation of a hand appears on his stomach, cool fingers splaying over his belly and making their way up to his chest with butterfly touches.

“I’m fine,” Tony answers, and a mouth attaches itself to his jaw, licking at the spot where his pulse beats hardest.

“Are you sure?” Steve insists, concerned. “You look feverish.”

 

And boy, does it take a lot of willpower not to groan when another invisible tongue starts licking at the skin around his arc-reactor and the action sends sparks flying down his spine, his body so accustomed to the action now that he feels himself hardening in an impressive display of Pavlovian reflex. Tony nods instead, digs his fingers in the leather of his armrests, tries not to whimper when there’s  _finally_  some action where it’s wanted, fingers wrapping around him with frighteningly practiced ease.

(Actually what should be frightening is that Tony is able to tell from that illusion alone that if Loki were really touching him right now, he’d be blue. Tony, however, feels more turned on and frustrated than frightened.)

 

“I think we should call the meeting off,” Loki says, looking for all the world like he just noticed what was happening this side of the table, and the bastard has the gall to look  _concerned_  when he addresses Coulson: “Stark does look unwell. I personally don’t think now is a good time to have everyone succumb to an epidemic of the flu, what with all the widespread attacks occurring lately.”

 

Tony, who is busy trying to decide what’s worse between trying to rub himself off against thin air –because he  _knows_ the pressure is going to disappear as soon as he tries to increase it- or just sink under the table and get to work on Loki -because  _fuck_ , it shouldn’t be allowed to have that many tongues working on Tony at the same time, illusory or not- barely hears Coulson replying.

He makes sure everyone is gone before he rises though, which proves unnecessary when green smoke surrounds him and he lands heavily on his bed, legs spread and cock aching against his jeans. Loki is here too, gorgeous in his black pants and green v-neck, and Tony grabs at his waist, only to be pushed back off.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Loki says, arching a royal eyebrow, when Tony tries to get up again –which, by the way, is fucking difficult to do when there are at least a dozen hands caressing you in every place possible, and just as many tongues licking your throat, your balls, your hole, all at the same time.

“What do—ugh, what do you  _think_  I’m doing?” Tony asks, grateful that he’s not under pressure to sound normal anymore, “I thought I made my intentions very—ah—very clear!”

“Of course you did,” Loki says, wearing his patented trickster smirk, “Yesterday at lunch, when I told you I had to finish working on my latest project before I could join you to bed. As I recall, you were quite adamant that there would be no ‘naughty touching’ for the rest of the week.”

 

Tony doesn’t answer right away, trying to push his way to more friction, even if he has to use his jeans for that because  _jesus fuck_ , Loki is the  _worst_  tease  _ever_. Eventually, he manages to suck in a breath and push an answer out:

 

“You’re the one who started it—oh my  _God_ ….”

“I told you to call me Loki, Tony,” Loki smirks as he comes closer to Tony. “And as you may have noticed… I’m not  _touching_  you.”

 

It’s difficult to see through the haze of lust surrounding Tony right now, with the typical-though-ever-surprising mix of heat and coolness wrapped around his cock, the feel of another penis pressing behind him… however, Tony still manages to notice that Loki is watching him hungrily, and  _his_  jeans look rather full as well.

 

“Oh— _fuck—_ ”

“In a minute, don’t worry,” Loki says, and nearly all contact disappears from Tony’s body, save the feeling of someone nuzzling at his balls, and he groans:

“You—you’re trying to—ha—to prove a point… aren’t you?”

“My, my, my, Stark, you  _do_  have a brain after all,” Loki says as his imaginary fingers tease at Tony’s hole, circle it lightly, and then press in, causing him to take a sharp breath.

“Okay,” Tony says once he’s recovered the use of his voice through Loki’s scissoring, “Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Loki asks as he sits down on the bed, just inches away from Tony, hands dutifully folded in his lap –fuck the dude has  _control_.

“Your—your point. I get your point. No—oh  _fuck_ —no trying to withdraw sex as a punishment.”

 

If Tony felt a little more coherent, he’d find it pretty weird to feel Loki pressing inside him while sitting on the side, completely composed. As it is though, he can’t feel anything but deeply aroused and so freaking  _impatient_  for more because  _damn_  Loki knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it  _slowly_.

 

“Good,” Loki says, and Tony feels a hand seize his cock again, casually jerking him off as Loki picks up his pace from behind, bringing Tony oh so  _close_ … “Don’t forget it,” Loki says, toying with the cuff of Tony’s sleeve and  _shit_  he’s still  _clothed_.

“Wait!” Tony gasps, twisting on the bed as though there was any way for him to escape this –which, by the way, he doesn’t really  _want_  in the first place- “Wait, I—I haven’t—damn,  _Loki_ , I haven’t come in my pants since I was— _ah_ —twelve!”

“Well then, enjoy your stroll down memory lane, love.”

 

And with that, there’s a twist of wrist, a deeper thrust, and the sensation of a kiss, deep and possessive and breathtaking, and Tony comes, warm and wet against the cotton of his boxers.

 

“Oh,” He forces out as soon as his breath is back, “the things I will do to you….”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it love,” Loki smirks, “but next week. You need to be firm in your resolutions.”

“I think—I think I’ll let you make the decisions from now on, shall I?” Tony says, and Loki’s grin widens.

“All I’ll say is that you wouldn’t regret it.”

 

And, well, it’s not like Tony is in a position to argue against that, is he?


End file.
